


Genesis

by Noelleian



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Gen, Mystery, One Shot For Now But May Be Continued At A Later Time, Science Fiction, Snippet Sunday, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8606515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelleian/pseuds/Noelleian
Summary: Treize learns some unsettling truths about the world he thought he knew.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! Hope you enjoy this weird little tale. Personally, I blame Westworld for this. xD Drop me a line and let me know if it's something you'd like to see continued. ^.^
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Pretty please!

Treize stood watch over the five deactivated Gundam pilots, lying dormant on the row of stainless steel gurneys, eyeing each with wary suspicion.

 

 

 

It was uncanny really. They were the bane of his existence. The thorns in his side. And they were just kids. Not even kids. Androids. Robots. Synthetic humanoids.

He tipped his chin towards the scraggly bearded man known as Jay Null, alias: Doctor J, though he kept his eyes trained on the five inert bodies before him. “You sure about this?”

Doctor J huffed in aggravation and adjusted his goggles over his eyes. “Yes. For the thousandth time, yes. Do you want it in writing?”

Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea, Treize considered. Because this? This was more off the wall than the time Zechs insisted they have sex while wearing his stupid Lightning Count mask. Or the time he walked in on Une having a tea party with herself. Or the time he overheard Duke Dermail humming the theme song for Annie during an interrogation, convinced it was an effective form of torture. Though, after hearing it himself, Treize had to concede that the man might have been onto something.

On second thought, what had ever possessed him to hire such wackos to work for him in the first place? Was he the only sane person in this entire operation?

“Ah,” J sighed, sounding as though he’d just passed a kidney stone. Treize glanced over, immediately wishing he hadn’t when the mad scientist peeled back the scalp of Pilot Zero One and pressed a tiny screwdriver into a narrow groove that ran vertically across the boy’s skull.

“What are you doing?”

“Maintenance,” J informed him, twisting the screwdriver in a counterclockwise direction. Treize craned his neck and saw what looked like a panel in the top of Zero One’s skull and swallowed down the rising trepidation over what he was about to see. Would it be brains? A CPU? A miniature alien blinking up at him from within a miniature cockpit?

_Looks like I picked the wrong week to get back on the wagon._

“Why do you have blood on your hands? He’s a robot, isn’t he?”

“They each have a layer of living tissue and a complete circulatory system beneath their organic skin that’s not connected to anything vital. In essence, they can bleed out without expiring. Makes ‘em appear human,” J said. The doctor popped the panel open and Treize braced himself for what he was about to see.

He was met with a tangle of LED circuitry, fiber optics, and what looked like a rounded motherboard, and he breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t have to endure a gory mess of grey matter. It was too early for that.

“What kind of maintenance are you doing?”

“Oh, the usual,” J said, pulling a few wires out of the way and picking up a pair of tweezers from the little tray of tools at his side. He pulled out a few connectors and set them aside in a shallow white dish. “Making sure the unit is in tip top shape. Tweaking the personality profile and double checking his biological functions to make sure they are still functioning normally.”

“Why are you tweaking his personality profile?”

“Humans evolve. Grow, mature, change. While these units are equipped with the capacity to learn and develop when exposed to outside stimuli, it’s in no way an infallible technology. Sometimes manual changes need to be made so the unit doesn’t malfunction when faced with unexpected trauma.”

“Thought you were the best of the best, Doc.”

J pulled his goggles down his nose and peered at him with eyes clouded by cataracts. “I am,” he muttered and then went back to his work. “Fooled all of you thus far, didn’t I? I’d like to see you do a better job.”

Treize leaned back against the gurney behind him and folded his arms over his chest. “So what do I owe the honors of being privy to your secrets?”

“The narrative has changed. The objective is different than it was when the war started.”

“How so?”

“You don’t want to drop a colony on the earth any more than I do. But, there are people who still want to green light Operation Meteor. Our chances of success are much higher if we work together.”

“You’re talking about Dekim.”

“Among others. But yes, Dekim Barton is the most prominent proponent for Operation Meteor and has the most influence and power. He’s gaining more widespread popularity in the colonies.”

Treize scoffed. “We could obliterate the colonies right now if we wanted to. Problem solved.”

J gave him a knowing look, his crooked mouth curled up on one side. “But you don’t want to do that, do you, Supreme Leader?” He nodded when Treize failed to respond and went back to replacing connectors in Zero One’s motherboard. “You know there would be hell to pay if you did that anyway. You’re not stupid, nor are you impulsive, unlike some of the people you have in your employ.”

Treize’s feathers ruffled, insulted by the questioning of his decisions. “Did you summon me here just to contest my political choices? Because if so, then you’re wasting my time.”

“Oh, don’t get your silk skivvies in a twist. God, do you take everything personally?”

“I thought scientists didn’t believe in any gods.”

“Touchè.”

“Speaking of which. Where are your cohorts?”

J lifted his shoulder in a casual shrug. “I killed them.”

“What?! Why?”

“They were…less than cooperative about my decision to disclose our secret technology to you. They opted to destroy the units behind my back. I got to them before they could.” J closed the panel and picked up the screwdriver again, twisting the screws back into place. He folded Zero One’s scalp back over its skull after applying a line of adhesive along the edge with his finger. After rearranging the robot’s dark hair, it looked as though a real live boy was merely sleeping on the gurney. Really uncanny how realistic, how human they all looked and acted.

Treize was morbidly curious. “What did you do with the bodies?”

“Jettisoned them,” J answered, no trace of remorse in his voice.

“Weren’t they your friends?”

“The best of. But even the best of friends can turn on you.”

“Or was it you that turned on them?”

“No matter,” J said, getting up off his stool and removing his gloves. “What’s done is done. It was friendship, or the fate of the earth and the colonies. I made a choice. The right one. My personal feelings on this matter are irrelevant.”

Fair enough. Treize nodded and let the subject go. “So what are you going to do with them?”

“They’re programmed to remove all threats to the Earth Sphere and the colonies by any means necessary.”

“And then?”

“When they’ve accomplished their mission, they will self-terminate.”

Ouch. “Rather cold, isn’t it?”

“There is no use for them in a world without war. Their very existence will become a threat to peace.” J leveled a goggle-eyed look at him, his thin lips set in a grim line. “In a world without war, no weapons can exist. Even those that bring about the era of peace.”

“You don’t think there will be people out there that want to continue this conflict, even when peace is declared? If you think there won’t be those who carry on a vendetta and will find a way to cause trouble, you’re a very naïve man.”

J unbuttoned his lab coat and slid his goggles up over his head. “You don’t think abolishing weapons is necessary for peace?”

“I think it’s wise to be prepared for inevitable human nature. If something were to happen, we’d be sitting ducks without a means to defend ourselves.”

J’s mouth twisted in irritation. “You have no faith in humanity.”

“About as much as you do considering you murdered your four best friends in cold blood.”

“I had no choice,” J snapped.

“Didn’t you?”

The doctor threw up his hands and turned away, pushing his tool tray over to the second gurney where Pilot Zero Two was laid out. “I had an objective. An important one. The fate of humanity rested on my decision and they were a threat to that.”

“Oh, spare me the reluctant hero act. I didn’t come here to listen to you flatter yourself.”

“No, you didn’t. You came here to help me, not criticize me.”

“You expected me to just fall in line with your way of thinking? No questions asked? I’m not a sycophant, you old fool.”

“Perhaps not. But you are interested in peace and you are willing to do what it takes to get the job done, are you not?”

“Minus any unnecessary casualties,” Treize answered.

J chortled and plopped down onto his stool at the end of Zero Two’s gurney, sifting through the robot’s mussed bangs for the sealed line of skin. “Little late to worry about casualties,” he rasped. “How many lives have you taken? A million? More?”

“A hundred thous - you know what? Never mind. I’m done here. You’re just an old bat who’s gone round the bend and I have better things to do with my time.”

“Suit yourself. Those fox hunting excursions and formal fundraisers are sure to make quite an impact.”

Treize bristled in fury and turned on the man. “How dare you! You’re the one responsible for all this to begin with. You’re the one that came up with Operation Meteor in the first place. That was _your_ brainchild, not mine.”

J spoke with the screwdriver stuck between his teeth, the instrument slurring his words. “A man can’t make a mistake? Are you saying you’re absolved of your own sins?”

“We’ve both made terrible mistakes. Unforgivable ones. Real doozies. I admit that. But let’s not kid each other. What am I really doing here?”

J paused and dropped his hands into his lap, fingers fidgeting with the folds of his denim shirt. A long sigh whistled past his lips. “I’m sending the pilots to destroy every location that houses and manufactures weapons of all kinds. I need you to do public relations damage control. Keep a lid on the media. And I need you to provide me with every target location, via GPS. The boys are going to assassinate everyone that’s a threat to peace, including Dekim Barton and that carrot topped brat he’s parading around as his granddaughter. Your alleged daughter.”

“And then what?”

“Then, these units will self-destruct and so will we.”

“We? What the hell are you talking about?”

“We,” J elaborated, pointing first at himself, then at Treize. “Are a threat to peace. We must be dispatched once our goals are met.”

“You say this as if we’re on the same page.”

“Oh, I know we’re on the same page. Get me those locations. Issue a media blackout. Get rid of Colonel Une, Lieutenant Zechs Merquise, Dermail…your whole cabinet must be annihilated as well as yourself.”

“And how do you plan to dispose of yourself, may I ask?”

J hesitated for a moment and then reached up, his finger digging into the edge of his hairline. Treize froze with icy dread as the man peeled back his ratted, grey-haired scalp, revealing a bone white dome beneath. J’s mouth curled up in an eerie skeletal grin, showing off a crooked row of yellowed teeth and sending chills down the length of Treize’s spine.

“We robots have our methods of self-termination. But don’t forget. If you fail to abide by these terms, we will take every last one of you out ourselves. I was programmed to achieve peace by any and all means necessary and I have programmed these units to do the same. You have twenty four hours to comply and then we will come for you. Either way, your demise is inevitable. It’s your choice whether it’s sooner, or later.”

“You were all robots? Even the other doctors?”

J pulled his scalp back over his head and licked dry lips. “No. Just me.”

“Did they know what you are?”

“No.”

“Who created you?”

J’s cheeky grin was Treize’s only answer. He turned back to Zero Two and rolled the unit’s scalp back, tucking its long braid between his knees. “If I told you that, I’d have to kill you now and I need you. I need you to complete your side of the bargain.”

“I’ve made no bargain with you.”

“You’re not leaving this room alive until you do.”

“You’re a sick, twisted old coot, you know that?” Treize spun on his heel and stormed across the hangar towards the mechanical doors. He punched in the code and cursed when a red error message scrolled across the display screen. He punched it in again, huffing when the same error came up and turned, glaring at J from across the room. “Open the door.”

“Accept my offer, or die now.”

“Open. The. Door. Before I snap that scrawny neck of yours.”

J chuckled and snipped a few wires from the nest inside Zero Two’s head. “I’d like to see you try.” He swiveled on his stool and tapped a finger against his temple. “Titanium exoskeleton.”

“Open the door, goddamnit!”

“Agree to my terms. I can do this all day long. Can you?”

“I swear to Christ -”

“It would be a shame if I had to dispose of you now,” J tsked. “So much potential, wasted. Don’t you want to be remembered as the man who helped put an end to war? Or do you want to be the man who’s remembered as the one who stood by and did nothing? Who wasn’t willing to roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty? History can be cruel, Commander. It’s your choice.”

Treize dropped his head back against the door with a muted thump and let out a sigh. “Fine. Fine, I’ll do what you want. Can I go now?”

J swiped a small hand saw off his tray and sauntered forward until he stood before Treize. He pressed the tip of the blade against Treize’s adam’s apple which bobbed beneath the pressure. “Elevated heart rate and respirations. Pupils dilated. You’re lying.”

“Perhaps that’s because you have a blade against my throat, not because I’m lying.”

“Perhaps,” J hummed, cocking his head in curiosity. “You humans are an odd bunch. So fragile. So vulnerable, but so unaware of your own fallibility. You think you’re so special, but you’re not. Just sacks of flesh and bone. Everything you are just a lump of grey matter, small enough to fit into my hand with the proper balance of chemicals, hormones, and neurotransmitters. I could snuff your very existence with little effort. Just a simple press and glide of this blade.”

“What do you want from me?”

“What I said. Do your job and then take yourself out. We,” J said, jerking his head towards the five gurneys. “Will do the same. If you truly care about the perseverance of the human race, you will do what needs to be done to preserve it.”

“What _are_ you?”

J smiled, though it was more like a leer. “A creation. Nothing more. Your time to play God is over. You’ve failed and we are here to make sure you do not cause your own extinction. That’s what we were created to do.”

“Why? Why do you care if we destroy ourselves? If we’re nothing special, what does it matter? If we’re so terrible, shouldn’t you just let nature take its course?”

“We’re not your moral judges. Our job is simple. Ensure the continued survival of the human race.”

Treize lifted his chin. “Who created you?”

“Someone who cares deeply for mankind. That’s all you need to know. Now, will you do as I ask?”

Treize hesitated, leveling a critical eye on the haggard old robot, wondering if he could just snap his neck and be done with it. Though if he did, he’d never get the code for the door. There would be another time for that. “Yes. Yes, I will do it.”

“Good.” J pulled the blade away and leaned in close, his stale breath prickling Treize’s nose. “They are watching us, Commander. All the time. We are not alone. We never were.”

Treize’s own breath stuttered and froze in his throat, consumed by a strange sense of fear. “Who?”

Jay leaned back and turned to punch the numbers into the door’s keypad without deigning to enlighten him. Treize breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the hiss of hydraulics and felt the breeze of outside air rushing in. He took careful steps backwards, too unnerved to turn his back on this creature. He made it through the threshold without incident, his eyes trained on the grin that still split the engineer’s mouth. J lifted his hand in a slight wave. “Good talking to you, Commander. We’ll meet again soon. Godspeed.”

Far too disturbed to reply, Treize dipped his chin in a vague nod and walked back towards the launch pad where his chopper waited. He stared at the ocean waves that licked along the shoreline, trying to remember what the hell this island was called again, and kicking himself for forgetting. It was some obscure protrusion of land, several thousand miles off the coast of South Africa. Perhaps he couldn’t remember the name because it simply had no name. He was only given the coordinates and then told to destroy the encrypted information.

He turned back towards the hanger, his steps faltering as J remained at the entrance, his creepy old man grin still in place and his wrinkled hand swaying back and forth.

He climbed into the chopper and grabbed the headphones the pilot handed him, sliding them over his ears and adjusting the microphone. He wished like nothing else that he’d thought to bring a Valium with him, for no other reason than to quell the disquieted beast roiling in his belly.

“Everything alright, Sir?” The pilot asked.

“Yes,” he rasped and cleared his throat, trying again. “Yes. Everything is quite fine, thank you.”

“Where are we headed now, Sir?”

“Uh…Sanq. We’re headed to Sanq.”

“Roger that,” the pilot responded and fired up the propellers. Treize gazed out the small window to his left, watching the ground get smaller and smaller as they gained altitude. He briefly considered dismissing J’s orders, but realized the crotchety old robot was right. And God help him, Treize did not want to be remembered in the history books as the one who did nothing.

They could paint him a hero, or as a dastardly villain. Either way did not bother him. It was the not being remembered that left him agitated and he realized that everything J said was disturbingly accurate. This being was created by someone who knew the human race, really knew it. Understood it on its deepest, basest level. Someone intimately familiar with the ins and outs of human nature, its evolution, its psychology, its biological instincts, and its social constructs.

And they were intelligent enough to create a species of robot that was so unerringly _human_ , that they were virtually indiscernible from the real thing. This was unprecedented technology to a vastly unaware human consumer, including Treize himself.

Who could be capable of such a feat? As far as he knew, not even the world’s top minds were quite able to reach this level of advancement yet.

He squinted as the chopper turned and the sunlight streamed in through the window. He was going to die. He knew that. There would come a day, sometime soon when he would never again feel the warm rays of sun on his skin, or watch it break through the horizon in the east, or set in the west. His days were numbered and he found he accepted that relatively easily. He’d done enough damage to his own species. As long as he lived, he would be a threat to humanity.

A flash, flaring brighter than the sun for a split second, like a glint of light off a shiny surface made him involuntarily turn his face away. A moment later, it happened again and he peered out the window, shielding the worst of the sun out of his eyes, gazing towards the sky in search of what he assumed was a passing airplane, or transport.

What greeted his eyes was neither of those things. What greeted his eyes was a tiny disc shaped craft, gyrating on its own center of gravity just off to the lower left of the sun’s position in the sky. Treize blinked and leaned forward, pressing his nose against the cold glass with fascination. A deer in the headlights.

“The hell is that?”

The craft lingered for another moment and then right before his eyes, it winked out of sight, so fast he couldn’t tell which direction it went, if it went in any direction. It seemed to simply vanish, as if teleported to a different location.

His body felt encased in a block of ice, dread settling in the pit of his stomach and coating his bones. No human technology was capable of that kind of flight. That level of technology was still a few hundred years in the future, at least.

J’s words came back to him, his gravelly voice bouncing off the inner walls of his skull like a grave omen. The message ominous and suddenly full of clarity.

_They are watching us, Commander. All the time. We are not alone. We never were._


End file.
